


Deathless in New Orleans

by RhymingMeerkat



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:01:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8677429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhymingMeerkat/pseuds/RhymingMeerkat
Summary: The vampires you adore in a somewhat new setting, as told by someone who loves them with all her heart. 
Believe me if you will, or read as fiction.





	1. The beginning of it all

Do you remember The Vampire Lestat? The mischievous brat prince with the gorgeous gray eyes and the high concentration of demon in his blood? It's been a while, I know, but he's kind of hard to forget. I'm his...Well, I'm Grace. Grace Katherine Kenny, if you want to be exact. I live with the so called 'Coven of the Articulate', and I'd like to tell you my story.

Between David and I, we've gotten this story as close to the truth as possible. Unlike certain other works, my writing and David's editing are not biased by personal opinion. I am posting on this forum because I find it simpler than attempting to publish a book, and it works much better with my various time constraints. It's also less likely that this will be found by certain vampires who don't look too fondly upon writings of the immortal world.

I will not say this story is truth, nor will I call it fiction. That's for you to decide. And Lestat, my darling love, if you see this...Please don't get upset that I disobeyed your wishes. After all, is it not just what you have done time and time again to get your story to the world?

 

I'll start my story the night I met him.  
The year is two thousand and sixteen. It's February 17th and it's freezing cold.

The streets of New Orleans showed the activity of its late night populace in the coating of snow on the ground. Footsteps were frozen in place and the nip in the air held a promise of more to snow yet to come. I couldn’t shake that awful feeling that I was being watched. To some extent that was normal for me, but this time was different. This feeling wasn’t passive and it only got more intense as the night went on. Why I had chosen to walk to the store and back that night, I don’t entirely know. It certainly would have been easier to drive. I think, a part of me wanted to enjoy a calm peaceful snowfall before the end came. 

Sentimentality was always a downfall of mine, even now. In the canvas bag slung across my shoulder, I had several candles, a brand new notebook, a new pack of ballpoint pens, a box cutter, and a bottle of sedatives I’d bought from the man on the corner I’d spent my whole life avoiding eye contact with. 

The candles and pills were to create a sense of calm. Something my life greatly needed.  
The notebook and pens were to hold my story, or at least the parts people would believe.  
The box cutter was the tool I would use to end the pain.

Of course, the sedatives would do the job. But that leaves a chance of rescue. If someone found me, I didn’t want to be able to be saved. Today marked twenty years on this earth. These last few I’d been free, but it didn’t stop the nightmarish images of my past running through my mind. And then, the tipping point. This feeling of being watched. The small signs that someone was following me. My door, that I knew I’d locked, standing slightly ajar. A single broken rose on my counter top. The police didn’t help. Even if they believed me, there really was nothing they could do. Or so I was told. 

Even now as the cold stung my face and I tried to forget it all, I felt the eyes on me. Footsteps in the snow behind me that would suddenly just end, as if the figure vanished. Whatever was following me, I tried to keep it from getting to me. Tonight it would end, and nothing could get to me anymore. I just had to get home, to get inside. It wasn’t even a ten minute walk until I would be home. This thought brought a small smile to my face. 

But the joy was fleeting. A hand, ice cold - colder than the snow and bitter wind, grazed my shoulder. I froze in my steps. A part of me wanted to fall to my knees, to give in. I’d planned for the end to come soon, why not let it be at someone else’s hands? But the cold rationality could not speak louder than the fear and adrenaline that began to pump through my veins. I took off running, faster than I knew I could. My eyes had closed and I allowed the fear to push me forward. Suddenly, I stopped moving. 

It took me a moment to realize I’d crashed into something cold and hard, and the ice had caused me to fall. I was on my knees. The dull pain in my right leg told me I might have injured myself. But the feeling of oppression had vanished. Whatever was following me had fled. Opening my eyes, I glanced upward to see what had stopped me. The cold hard thing was not a wall or pillar, like I’d assumed, but a blonde man. A very attractive blonde man, who had something like a smirk on his face. 

Perhaps man was not the right word. Despite his heavily masculine features, he had something of a boyish amusement playing around his eyes and lips. The cheeks too, were young. As I gaped, he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, bending slightly to offer me his hand. 

“You know, running with your eyes closed is not exactly the most intelligent move you can make,” He chided, somehow kindly. 

It was only then that I remembered to breathe. His voice was younger than I had expected, with the smallest tinge of a french accent. Just as beautiful as his face. Tentatively I took his hand and allowed him to help me to my feet. The top of my head was barely level with his shoulder and I found myself tilting my head upward quite a bit just to meet his eyes. They were grey, almost the same shade as the moonlit clouds, seemingly miles above slight height of 5'1. 

After a moment I realized I should speak. The adrenaline from the sudden icy touch had begun to fade, allowing my mind to think more clearly.

“Did you see anyone?” I asked, breathlessly, in a voice a tinge more squeaky then I would care to admit.

His eyebrow raised ever so slightly more. “Only the brunette who barreled into me just a moment ago.” 

An embarrassed blush flushed over my cheeks, and I was thankful to the redness from the cold, masking it.

 

“What’s going on?” His voice was a tinge harsher now, as if he thought I was up to something. 

I’d managed to calm my breathing then, the warm trickle of blood from my kneecap thawing my small wound enough that I felt the pain beckon me back to reality.

“S-something was following me. It grabbed my shoulder and I ran.”

Again his eyebrow raised. If I was less afraid, I might have found it amusing and worried that it was attempting to escape its place on his face. When he spoke again, his voice had lost the annoyance. It was replaced by casual interest. 

“Attacked by something? What do you mean by ‘something’? Calm down a bit more and explain.”

I did as he said and took a few deep breaths to calm myself. My panicked expression faded. 

(I can’t imagine what I looked like then, having fallen at his feet after smacking directly into his chest. It’s likely I looked like a panicked child. I’m very plain from a distance, thanks to my small figure and plain brown hair. What curves I do have in my hips were hidden by my loose clothing. The baggy winter fleece I had on hid them even more. He tells me now, when we joke about how we met, what attracted him to me. 

“Aside from how you’d fallen at my feet, bleeding, something in your face that was quite remarkable. The softness and innate kindness of your expression shone through the cold that flushed your round cheeks. The seemingly unending depth to your hazel eyes. Past the fear in your voice, it was almost melodic. To say the least Grace, you were interesting. You have a pull about you and instantly I was caught up in it.”

Though I might not say it to his face, I find his view biased. If I didn’t keep my hair waist length, if it were bobbed or pixied, I might be easily mistaken for a young boy. Perhaps he just does not like to admit that he saw me first as a possible meal. I can’t quite blame him, it’s not overly romantic when it’s said that way. And Lestat is very fond of the overly romantic. Anyhow-)

 

When I was calm enough to speak, I met his eyes, quickly glancing back down at the ground. “I have absolutely no idea. It wasn’t a person. If I didn’t know better I’d say it were a vampire or zombie, but even joking I sound a bit insane.” My face flushed again, its favorite and obnoxious habit. “I’m sorry I literally ran into you…”

As I spoke, he’d looked at me in silence, a strange smile slowly spreading across his features. “Well that would certainly be something, wouldn’t it?”

“To say the least.” I attempted a smile, but the nervousness inside me was quite obvious in it's execution. A low wall was a bit to my right and I moved toward it, hopping up and stretching my leg out along it to inspect my throbbing knee. Blood was seeping through my jeans, but it didn’t seem to be actively bleeding anymore.

“When a person is watching you, you don’t get that...bone deep thrill of fear.” I chewed at my lip a bit, glancing up at him. 

He had lifted a hand to the top of his head, running his hand through his hair and scratching his scalp a bit. Oddly enough, he looked almost nervous. “That is...a bit concerning.”  
I nodded, my brow furrowing the tiniest bit. “It’s hand was freezing cold. And if I looked behind me, a set of footsteps would have started and vanished without any reason. It was...strange.”

His nervousness seemed to fade, and an ever so slightly amused smile danced in his eyes.

(If you ask him about this amusement now he will do one of two things. The first is completely deny this ever happened. The second is to tell you he had been bored lately and wanted to amuse himself. Take it from me, the latter is the truth. I also suspect he’d been meaning to kill me or remove my memory, but I have no solid proof aside from the fact that firmly David agrees.)

“Hm. Well...That sounds sort of like a vampire to me. Or a ghost. But I would bet on vampire, myself.” He remarked, giving his hair one last tug.  
I felt my expression shift to one of worry. For some reason, I believed what he said entirely. “How...I mean, why…?”

Smiling slightly, he let out a small laugh. “I know because I know. And doesn’t vampire seem more believable than say, a zombie?”  
In all honesty, I had begun to be a bit annoyed at his cavalier attitude toward my very serious problem, but I didn’t let my face show it. I moved to stand and bent my leg wrong, the blood beginning to flow again. I looked closer. A piece of glass from a broken bottle was lodged in the wound. Thank you, drunkards of New Orleans, for this injury. 

“Oh...crap.” I muttered, pulling it out in a swift movement and wincing. The wound was directly under my kneecap and as soon as I had removed the glass the blood began to flow again. “Well...either way…” I sighed, attempting to distract myself from the pain as I applied pressure to my wound, “Whatever was following me, vampire or no, stopped when I got near you. So in a way, you saved my life.” 

He glanced at me for a moment, quickly diverting his eyes from my wound. Idiot that I was, I thought he might have been squeamish. “I suppose I did.” His voice sounded a bit thoughtful, before he added, “...Do you need any help with that?”

“Oh.” I lifted my hands a bit to see that it was in fact still bleeding. Persistent little bugger. “Um...Maybe? If you...wouldn’t mind holding pressure on it for a moment.” 

He nodded, moving closer to the wall and I, pressing his hands to my wound to hold it together. He kept his eyes away from it, keeping a sort of eye contact, or at least looking at my face. Once again, I was thankful for the cold that gave reason for my blush.

(I asked him once, why he went near my wound. Why he offered to help. “Weren’t you worried it would cause an issue?” I’d said. He rolled his eyes and responded, “I am many things, but rude is not one of them.” Armand nearly died laughing.)

“How’s that?” He asked with a small uncomfortable smile.

“Perfect, thank you.” I smiled warmly at him, thankful that he would help despite his aversion to blood. (Hilarious now, I know.) I pulled my arms inside my fleece, taking my tank top off in that strange secret way that only girls can seem to figure out and is generally used for discreet bra removal. I was blushing as I did so. Unfortunately, even as I popped my arms back out of my fleece, he was watching my face and noticed.

He laughed a bit. “Oh, calm down. You’re a bit busy bleeding at the moment. Modesty really isn’t a priority.”

His words caused my blush to deepen and I fought the urge to slip my head inside my shirt and hide. I muttered, too quietly for him to hear or so I’d thought, “Well. Maybe not for you. Easy not to care about modesty when you’re...like...gorgeous.” Grabbing my tank top through the neck hole, I pulled it out. “You can move your hands now. Thank you.” 

He laughed, a bit more genuinely. “Oh? Well I suppose that could be true.” And then he laughed again as he watched the realization that he’d heard my muttering cross my face. All the blood in my body went to my cheeks. Which honestly, should not have been a priority what with all the blood loss. But I digress. “You shouldn’t feel the need to thank me for that. Really, most people would have done it.”

I began tying my tank top around my injury while I spoke, avoiding his eyes. “Maybe, maybe not. But you did help me. I would thank anyone who went out of their way to help me, and it just happened to be you.”

He placed a hand on his hip, nodding a bit. “Well yes, it was.” Suddenly his voice sounded a bit dismayed. “Oh well, that’s wonderful.”

 

I looked up then, partly because I was finished badly dressing my wound and partly at his dismayed tone. When I noticed the blood he’d gotten on his shirt from helping me, I squeaked.

“Oh no! Oh I’m so sorry! You helped me so much, and I’ve caused you to ruin your shirt!” I hopped down from the wall, nearly about to cry. “I’m so sorry, I’ll pay for it, I promise.”

“It’s fine, honestly, don’t bother. It really is perfectly alright.” He gave a small smile in what I think was an attempt to reassure me.

“Do you think...whatever that was, do you think it will come back?” I tried to keep the rising panic out of my voice.

“Well, I’m not entirely sure to be honest.” He shrugged. “Hopefully it won’t of course, but I’m not sure.”

I forced a small laugh. “Right. Sorry. I shouldn’t really expect someone to know much about supposedly mythical creatures.” For a moment I kicked the ground nervously. Then, I stepped forward and hugged the man’s torso. He’d saved my life after all. “Thank you. Really...Thank you.”

He smiled slightly, not returning the hug but placing a hand on my back and patting me reassuringly. “It’s fine, really.”

I took a deep breath, heavily reluctant to let go. Why would I be so reluctant to stop hugging a total stranger? Because it was the happiest and safest I’d felt in years. The logical part of my mind told me it was coincidence. This man had nothing to do with the presence leaving. Somehow though, I just didn’t believe the logical part of my mind. 

My whole life, I had attempted to keep a positive attitude and be hopeful. But this last year, something inside me broke, and no matter what I'd done, I continued to unravel. In the few seconds the hug lasted, it felt as though he were carefully picking up all my dropped strands.

Living with what had happened was becoming impossible. A part of me found it strange that I was so reluctant to die when it wasn’t in my control. That I ran from danger even though I was on the way home, planning to take my own life. Funny, how one runs from death when it’s not their own plan. After releasing a slight sigh, I removed my arms from around him and stepped back. I smiled, an honest warm smile. Completely genuine, despite the nearly immeasurable sorrow behind it.  
“Oh.” I laughed, “I’m Grace by the way. Grace Kenny.”

He smiled that beautiful smile of his and gave the tiniest joking bow. “Lestat. Lestat de Lioncourt.”


	2. The beginning, continued

I kept the smile on my face, ignoring the sorrow that made no real sense. “It was nice to met you, Lestat. I suppose this is goodbye.” 

He merely smiled, and I turned and began to walk off. A loud crash from the alley across from us echoed through the streets. It was followed by a quiet hissing sound and an almost inaudible screech. My heart jumped into my throat. Perhaps it was just a cat. Maybe two of them, fighting. But perhaps it was something else. I couldn't be sure. and it stopped me short in my tracks. 

He noticed the way I’d immediately stopped at the sound, though it would have been hard not to. It took him a long while to respond, but there was a strange sense of something in the air that kept me from speaking. 

(Now, he tells me that he’d begun an inner debate on whether or not he should help me. His curiosity got the best of him, as it so often does. )

With a slight raised eyebrow, he gestured around himself, “You sure you want to go off on your own right now?”

I stayed facing away from him, attempting to ignore the thrill of hope that ran through me. “...I don’t really have another option. ...It was probably just a cat or something.”

I could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke once more,“If you wanted, you could come with me. I’m willing to let you.”

Those tears I had been holding back filled my eyes despite me. The sliver of hope grew and I turned to face him, still reluctant to meet his gaze. “Are you ...I mean, are you sure?”

He smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips, “Well, I wouldn’t have offered if I weren’t serious.”

It took every ounce of willpower I had to avoid breaking down crying, as I bowed my head in thanks, “I can’t even begin to thank you enough.”

“Well, that’s just fine, because you don’t have to.” His smile widened and he held his hand out to me, “Come on, let’s get going. To my house, I suppose, unless you’d like to do otherwise.”

Timidly, I reached out and took the pale hand extended toward me, my head tilting up to face him without my permission. Even in the dark, his eyes were piercingly beautiful. “N-no...That’s fine. If you’re truly sure you don’t mind.”

“Oh, really. I don’t.” He gently pulled me closer until I was at his side, giving me a soft smile. “I don’t mind at all.”

The way he said this sent a strange shiver through me. It was somehow a promise, a threat, and reassurance all in one. I looked up at his face, which seemed a great distance away, and met his intense grey-blue eyes. His beauty was almost inhuman. 

(Yes, I know, hilarious. How could I be so blind, etc. David burst out laughing reading this over my shoulder. Well, his version of bursting out laughing. )

He stood so far above me, some six feet tall to my own five foot one. In all honesty, I felt as though I was a smeared toddlers finger painting next to a work of Michelangelo. I really had meant to respond to him, but I found myself struck dumb. Instead, I simply nodded. 

We walked for a while, primarily in silence, disregarding the general sounds of the night. None of them seemed so threatening with him at my side. After a time, Lestat stopped in front of a rather large and somewhat ornate looking home. 

To my surprise, he stepped up to the door, quickly opening it for me. “Here we are.”

At his urging, I stepped into the house, and I’m sure I looked quite baffled. “...This is where you live?” Again, my voice betrayed me and I squeaked.

He nodded, watching my amazement with slight humor. “Well, yes, I do. Not alone of course. Too big for one person. They aren’t around at the moment though.”

Like a fool, I blushed when I noticed his eyes on my face, and his smile. I responded in a small nervous voice, “That makes sense. Probably lonely for you now.”

“Hm. Not really. Sort of nice, actually. They’re almost always around. The place to myself is sort of a blessing. And they’ll be back soon enough anyway.” He shut the door behind himself.

“Then...you are especially kind for letting me come here.” I nodded a bit, chewing my lip, nervous at how at peace I felt, if that makes sense. “I’m sorry to ruin your quiet.”

“It’s no big deal. Really. Whilst being alone is nice, company is also enjoyable. I don’t mind either state. And new company tends to be interesting. So really, you’ve sort of done me a favor by agreeing to come here.” He paused for a moment before walking towards a small table by the couch. He took a lighter off of it and began to ignore the wicks a few of the various candles around the room. “Must be hard to see, right?”

“Um...yes. A bit. ...A lot. I’m sure my eyes will adjust.” Of course, I questioned why he didn’t just turn on the lights. But I’ve always had this bad habit of pushing away anything negative and so I ignored this oddity. I probably also should also have questioned why he was completely fine wearing a t-shirt in February. But I did not.

“Well, you shouldn’t have to. Not all that much anyway. At the moment, you’re my guest. So I have to make something of an effort, right?” Lestat smiled, finished with the candles, and placed down the lighter again. “Not a difficult task.” He glanced down at my leg, remembering what had happened only moments ago. “Oh. You should probably sit. It can’t be good to put pressure on your leg right now.” 

“Oh, no, really. It’s alright. Please, don’t go out of your way to make me comfortable. I honestly think you saved my life. If anything, I should be doing things for you.” I directed my eyes to the ground, wholly unsure of what to do or say.

“Well, that’s silly.” He took me by the arms and lead me over to the couch, gently forcing me to sit, hands lingering on my shoulders.

“O..Oh…” I didn’t attempt to resist, allowing him to move me. A rather unfamiliar feeling rose in my chest at his touch. Not uncomfortable or unwelcome. Just unexpected. “Thank you.”

“Now, let’s see...Well, is there anything you need? At all” He tilted his head slightly again. His movements were a bit strange, the candlelight making it exaggerated. 

(He would have been entirely fine if he had turned the lights on. They aren't so bright that it would have made his skin seem too unhuman. But if you are reading this, you likely know Lestat and his flare for the dramatic.)

“No, really. I’m fine.” I smiled, feeling a bit awkward, wishing I could do something to thank him, even in a tiny way.

My eyes caught the strange paleness of his skin and the odd predatory fashion in which he moved. In part, I ignored it. But mainly? I thought it might be better to die at the hands of this handsome stranger. Surely if he were going to kill me, he would do so quickly. Better at least than to die the way I was sure I almost did earlier, though perhaps not as good as the pills in my bag. A small yawn escaped me, my eyes tearing up as it did so. A single tear resulted from this and began a track down my cheek. 

He moved a bit closer to me, leaning down. Lifting his hand languidly, he gently wiped the tear from my cheek, his fingers trailing down my cheek to rest underneath my chin to lift my gaze to his, as he gave the the slightest of smiles. “Tired?”

A slightly surprised look crossed my face. “A little. Maybe I should…” My voice got a tinge quieter. I wished the following word didn’t exist. “...Go.”

His face relaxed a bit, and his smile became kinder. “Oh, but you don’t have to. It’s completely fine if you stay. And with your leg, you probably shouldn’t move much.” He shrugged, straightening up. “I wouldn’t recommend it. I believe you should stay.”

His voice was calming, and slightly persuasive. But even if it hadn’t been I would have accepted. “I...I would appreciate that. Honesty, I’m a bit frightened to be alone tonight.”  
The words I didn’t say...If I went home, I might go through with my plan. And this is the first time in my memory that I wanted to be alive another day.

He smiled widely, gently patting one of my hands with his own. “It’s settled, then. You’ll stay.”

I sighed in a relieved way, looking down at his hand on mine and closing my eyes a moment. His smile faded only slightly, reverting to a simple soft look. He took his hand from mine and placed it on his chin, his middle finger resting below his bottom lip.

“Alright then. How tired are you, exactly?” He tilted his head when he asked this, “Would you like to sleep now? Or would you prefer not to? Either works perfectly well. I’ll lead you to my room.”

I opened my eyes, which I’d apparently forgotten to do. “Oh. ...I’m quite tired actually. But please, I wouldn’t want to intrude or get blood on your sheets or anything. The couch will be perfectly fine.”

“Perhaps, but I won’t have it. If you’re tired, let me lead you upstairs.” He held a hand out to me, leaning ever so slightly towards me. His voice softened. “It’s what I want. You’ll be causing me no trouble, really.”

Blushing again, my face ever so fond of making me look a fool, I took his hand and smiled. “Thank you.”

He pulled me up slowly, giving me apt time to stand and ready my injured leg. He pulled me along, through the living room and into a hallway. Up a staircase, pausing at the second floor and into the hallway there. We passed by a few doors before he stops in front of one, opening it swiftly. “Feel free to do as you like in here. I spend little time there myself.”

“Thank you, again.” I was beginning to feel like a parrot who was only taught one phrase.

“My pleasure, really.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “Ah. When you awake, I won’t be here, alright? I felt I should warn you. Might be a bit disorienting otherwise. But I’ll be back when the sun sets again, if you feel the need to stay so long. Well, I’ll leave you to it now, then. Goodnight, I suppose.” He turned and began to make his way back to the stairs. 

(It seems odd, doesn’t it? That he let me stay the night. That he wasn’t being careful to hide what he was, as much as he could have been. He told me, quite a while after this, what his thoughts were as he began to walk away.  
He told me, “I felt a bit odd. I mean, it wasn’t entirely normal behavior, was it? From me, or from you. You didn’t ask the questions most people would have. But you didn’t seem stupid, or oblivious. Far from normal. And yet, there I was, going along with it. Helping you, though I didn’t entirely know why. But I’m glad I did. When odd things happen, it’s always interesting and sometimes exciting. I’m quite glad I let it play out.” Sweet, isn’t he?)

I caught his hand before he’d gone too far, blushing and not meeting his eyes. Honestly, I still don’t know what possessed me to do this. But my mouth opened, and I spoke in a haphazard rushed manner, “This is awfully forward and I have no right to ask anything of you but would you maybe stay?”  
My face was redder than a beet. But I didn’t regret it. 

He raised a brow as he searched my face. Again, it took him a long time to answer.

(He’s told me that he didn’t respond right away because his thoughts were preoccupied in telling himself that he was correct in his thinking that something interesting may happen. He certainly ikes congratulating himself.)

“I can stay until the sun rises, dear. Then I have to go. But I promise, until then, I’ll stay. And never worry about being forward, I don’t mind.” His answer seemed to almost shock him, as his eyes widened a bit. But it was barely noticeable. 

(Apparently what had happened, is that he answered with the first words that came to mind without thinking about them beforehand. But for him, that’s normal.)

I smiled and sighed in relief, stepping forward and hugging him again. When I realized I was hugging him, I quickly let go and stepped back, blushing furiously and staring at the ground. “Sorry.”

He grinned, letting out a laugh. “I see no reason for you to be sorry. Unless of course, you did something while I wasn’t looking.” His smile widened, looking a bit mischievous, “Must you apologize to me or thank me over every little thing? Trust me, women being forward is never something I’ve minded.”

(Whenever he tells this to anyone, or overhears me telling it, he always adds “That’s when I realized you were adorable.” It felt wrong to write this without adding that, but I will mention that I disagree. I was awkward, bright red, and horrid.)

I made my way to sit on his bed, still avoiding his gaze. “Maybe if you stopped being so kind, I wouldn’t feel the need to thank you so often.”

“People should be thanked for major things, not merely something anyone would or should do. If it’s something that should be done, it’s not so special that it deserves thanks. This is one of those things. Decent and common and plain, I think.” He sat himself down next to me on the bed before glancing at my injured leg. “I should probably get you some proper bandaging.”

“...Just because it’s something that should be done...doesn’t always mean it is done. It’s actually sort of rare.” Without even thinking, I leaned against his side a little, my head resting on his arm. I was inexplicably drawn to him. My fear was a thing of the past. Not a numbness to it. Not even ignoring it. It was simply gone. I took his hand in both of mine, inspecting his strange glass like nails. Under my breath, I laughed. “And do you mean to tell me tank tops are not proper medical equipment?”

“Proper for some kind of castaway on an uncharted island, maybe. But I don’t think you’re one of those. At least not currently. I can’t say anything for the future or past.” He laughed softly, so softly that it was mostly the movement of his body that even indicated he had laughed, “Gauze should do it, I think.”

“You know, it was just my luck that the one time I was a castaway, I didn’t have any tank tops?” My sarcasm faded to another laugh. After a moment, I get go of his hand in order to resist the urge to bring it to my lips and kiss it. 

(And because if you’ve read anything about vampires, you’re probably thinking it. But it was not his vampiric powers that caused me to be inexplicably drawn to him. At least, not entirely.)

After a small bout of silent laughter, he smiled softly at me. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

It didn’t take him very long to return, sitting at my side with the roll of gauze. “Here, let me see your leg.”

Realization dawned on my face and I pulled my leg away a bit. In the dark it hadn’t mattered as much. It was dark and there was blood and he wasn’t looking. But now that the blood had stopped flowing and there was candlelight, all of the horrendous scars on my legs would be visible. I spoke a bit more forcefully than I’d meant to. “No, it’s alright, I can do it.”

Lestat tilted his head, his expression ever so slightly concerned. Thank goodness he didn’t press the issue. He nodded and handed me the gauze, “Alright. Just tell me if you need help though.” 

I smiled and nodded, taking the gauze from his hand and turned away a bit. I bent over my leg so he wouldn’t be able to see it as I undid the makeshift bandage and rolled up my pant leg.  
He understood that for some reason I did not want him to see and moved to the other edge of the bed, just waiting for me to finish. As quickly as possible, I did, pulling my pant leg back down before sitting upright. I was much more relaxed now that it was over with, and I’m rather sure it was visible. I leaned back against the headboard, handing him the rest of the gauze.  
“Alright so, gauze might make a slightly better bandage then tank tops, I admit."

He took it from me, placing it on the nightstand. “I’ll leave it there in case you need to change it in the morning. And I will concede a bit, while it’s better than a tank top, it’s only by a very little.” He smiled, turning his head to look at me.

I laughed softly, almost under my breath. 

He lifted a hand to his hair, pulling a few strands away from his face. Quietly, he asked, “Do you still wish me to stay?”

“Oh..” I blushed and looked down at the bloodied garment in my hands. “If you don’t mind. I would appreciate it. ..I know it likely sounds very odd...but I feel incredibly safe with you.”

“I don’t mind at all. It’s perfectly fine. But as I said, I will be gone in the morning. You are still tired, yes? The time for talking should end soon.” He gestured with a hand for me to lay down.

I did so, only pausing to hang the former bandage off a knob on the nightstand to keep things as clean as possible. “...Your job must start pretty early then, huh?” I scooted over on the bed, making room for him to lay down as well. A part of me knew he wouldn’t be gone due to a job. But I didn’t care. 

“Oh yes. Very early.” He pulled himself more fully onto the bed, laying with his upper body propped against the headboard.”

I rested my head on the pillow. It was becoming increasingly hard to resist resting against his chest. Looking up at his face, I queried, “What do you do?”

His face went blank for a moment before he responded, “...Accounting.”

“Oh. Cool.” I definitely didn’t believe him, but I saw no reason to press it. “...Um…Will you lay down a bit more?” I closed my eyes as I spoke the next words, not wanting to see his face as he reacted to my blush. “...If it’s alright...I’d like to rest my head on your chest…?” 

“Oh?” I could tell by his voice he was smiling and I felt him slide downward on the bed. He laughed slightly, “I suppose I can allow it.” 

Still blushing, I shifted and placed my head on his chest and my arm around his torso. I think I whispered the next words, “Thank you.”

He rested a hand on my back, and I felt him relax underneath me. “It’s quite alright. Try to rest now, it will be better for your leg.”

I sighed, able to fully relax for the first time in weeks. “It’s a shame you work so early.”

Absently, his hand began to rub tiny circles on my back. “It is. I do apologize that I must leave you. Do you think you’ll be alright after tonight?”

“No need to apologize,” I laughed quietly, “I’m almost a total stranger.” I didn’t want to lie to him, but I couldn’t honestly say yes. So I altered my words, “I’m sure my leg will heal enough by then.”

“A stranger yes. But one I have chosen to...for lack of a better word, care for. And I don’t exactly mean your legs. I don’t doubt the idea of you being slightly...on edge. Considering what happened.” He paused in rubbing my back, lifting his head to look at me.

I bit my lip and shrugged slightly, avoiding his eyes, “I don’t know. I suppose. I’ll get over this. There’s a lot of other things to focus on.”

“It seems like other things would be hard to focus on, though. And...if you don’t mind me asking, things like what?” He returned to rubbing my back, relaxing back again and closing his eyes.

My body tensed almost imperceptibly at his question. “Just...a lot of bad things happened. They don’t seem to want to leave my mind, that’s all.”

“I see…” He opened his eyes and looked down at me again. “...Wouldn’t want you to dwell on that sort of thing either, though. It really isn’t that much better. If you would like, you could stay here even while I’m gone. It shouldn’t be an issue, really. If you would feel better here, I mean.”

Silent tears began to fall unbidden from my eyes, wetting his shirt. “Why do you...care?” It wasn’t rude, my question. The tone, I’m sure, was one of honest curiosity and bewilderment.

“I don’t know really. I do though. And I believe that is what matters most at the moment.” He lifted his head a bit more, using his free hand to gently lift my face so he could meet my eyes.

As he tilted my face upwards, a few more tears fell. “Thank you.”

“How many times must you thank me in one night?” A small chuckle escaped him, his smile gentle and genuinely sympathetic. He’d been telling the truth when he told me he didn’t know why he cared. But he was also truthful in saying that he did.

He removed his hand from my chin, gently wiping at the few escaped tears on my cheeks. I closed my eyes at his touch. “...Apparently a lot. You keep doing things that deserve thanks.”

“I deserve no thanks for these things. Nor do I expect any.” He lowered his hand from my cheek, grasping my chin again to keep me from hiding my face.

“Well...If you expected thanks for it..then you really wouldn’t deserve it.” I blushed a bit, looking at his chin to avoid meeting his gaze, having to focus very hard to keep my eyes from flicking to his lips. “...So...by not expecting thanks...you do, in fact, deserve it.”

He smiled softly, staring at me as if attempting to memorize each detail of my face. It was rather embarrassing. “I suppose I can’t argue with such logic.”

My gaze flicked to his eyes for a moment before going to his ear. “..G..good. Because I like thanking you.” My blush continued to deepen the longer he looked at me. I wasn’t used to being looked at at all, let alone by something this attractive, this close, or with such a pleased look on their face. 

“Oh? You like thanking me, do you?” He laughed, his smile still unfading. “Seems an odd thing to enjoy doing.”

“Well, you are being beyond kind to me. And...you have no idea how much it means to me. I just want to return the favor somehow. Hence all the thank yous.”

“It is nice, but unnecessary.” He seemed finish with his search of my face, settling his gaze on my eyes. His fingers still held my chin, one gently rubbing at my jaw. 

My chin and bottom lip trembled slightly, thanks to the extreme nervousness. In an attempt to stop it, I bit my lower lip, keeping my eyes on his. “I disagree. I think it is.”

“Well. Agree to disagree, then. Or the banter can continue. I don’t mind either option. I’m enjoying talking to you.” He released my chin, allowing me to move.

I wanted to duck my head and escape his gaze, but for some reason I did something quite different. I lifted the hand that was previously resting on his chest, allowing it to flutter up to his face and rest on his cheek. I didn’t respond to his words, caught up in the strange feel of his skin. He leaned into my touch, still looking into my eyes. His brow furrowed.  
After a moment, he raised his hand again and placed it on my cheek. Almost unintentionally, I moved my face slightly closer, my thumb tracing circles against his strong jaw. 

He copied my movement, coming a bit closer to me. Barely any space was left between us. I was trying to talk myself out of kissing him. He was pushing back the panic that he was reading the situation wrong. And then, he leaned forward the tiniest bit more, and pressed his lips ever so delicately to mine. Our noses bumped, gently rubbing together.  
My breath hitched when his lips touched mine, heart beating fast with nervous excitement. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do, so I held very still with a slight smile on my lips. I could feel the warm breath from his nostrils caressing my skin. It reminded me to breath. After a moment, he slowly pulled away. His eyes searched my face again and he looked a bit unsure.

“...Forgive me.”

I blushed and giggled. “No. Thank you.”

His face broke into a rather wide smile, a laugh escaping him. “Thanks, again?”

I returned the smile before placing my head back on his chest where he couldn’t see my expression. “I think that deserved a thank you.” My voice squeaked as I finished, “All great things do.”

I felt his chest move with silent laughter, his smile unfading. “Then I thank you as well.”

I squeaked again, and pressed my face a bit more into his chest. “...Oh.”

He placed his arm around me, tighter than it had been before. “Now, I think you should sleep.”

“Okay.” I lifted my head and placed a tiny shy kiss on his chin, putting my head back on his chest before he could do anything about it or see my expression. “...Goodnight Lestat.”

He sighed happily, relaxing again underneath me. “Goodnight, Grace.”

I fell asleep soon after that, the warmth and comfort of his body and breathing, mixed with the occasional quiet little sounds he made, working better than the best lullaby.


End file.
